Never Let Me Go
by Smizzlemort
Summary: The defeat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters was a victory for all those who fought against him. But for those who fought beside him, the defeat was devastating. And unforgettable. So much so, the next generation find themselves find they are not free of the darkness their parents fought so hard to keep them out of. -ON HIATUS-
1. Prologue

**AN: Hi, hi! First of all, thanks for choosing to read this! Secondly of all, for all of those who have read my story Promises, this story is a revisioning (is that a word? Microsoft Word says not) of my former HP fic (which is no longer on my page and that is no loss I assure you). So basically, this story contains all the characters (and some new ones) that were in Promises and whilst it retains their relationships, personalities etc etc they're all a lot older now, their situation is a quite different and some of their house sorting is a little different. I know where this story will end, the middle is a little hazy so if I go on a tangent, ROPE ME BACK IN! This story is still as canon as possible, no AU, no slash, no zoophilia- just pure Harry Potter. Author's Notes always ruin the flow of reading, but I had to put this somewhere! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that you, the reader, may recognize from the actual Harry Potter Universe.**

* * *

-Prologue-

The screams are deafening, the cries of pain and agony filling his ears. All around him, people are dying. Dropping like flies, regardless of which side they're on.

He runs. Runs as fast as he can through the crowds, deflecting curses and sending them too. There is a tremendous BANG! which sends shudders through the battling crowd. He too cowers a little, covering his head. As if that would stop his skull from crushing under the weight of the entire Astronomy Tower.

He looks up and sees the ancient Tower swaying in its foundations, dangerously hanging over the crowd. It begins to fall, the witches and wizards abandoning their war for a second as they scramble to safety.

He too runs for cover, making sure he is nowhere near the falling Tower. He is only just catching his breath, only now fully understanding his predicament. His whole body is shaking, shivering and convulsing. He is only brought back to senses by the dying screams of hundreds.

The Tower has fallen and though many have scrambled to safety, many are not so lucky. They are crushed underneath the heavy stones and there is absolutely no chance that they have survived.

He can see hands and legs and arms and heads all poking out from underneath the rubble. But this has only been a minor setback apparently, because the battle has recommenced. Witches and wizards merely stepping over the dead as they fling curses and hexes at each other.

He can hear the horrid shrieking of the goblins, wielding their swords as they hack through their former oppressors. He can hear the ethereal cries of the Dark Creatures, yelping and moaning as they tear through the fresh corpses.

He hears a piercing scream and he flicks round. At the end of the Bridge, he can see a young witch on the ground. She is face down, her blood all over the place. Upon her are two Creatures, yelping and shrieking as they stab stones and sharp instruments into her exposed back. The look on their faces is pure blood lust and he is hoping, for the girl's sake, that she is dead.

One Creature jumps off her back and grabs her feet, in preparation to drag her into the Forbidden Forest. At this action, the girl springs back to life and begins to scream again. This only aggravates the Creatures and they begin to slap and bite her, furthering her blood curdling cries. She looks up for a moment and locks eyes with him.

A brick falls in his stomach as he recognizes the girl; Zhyphera Zabini. She is not a close friend, merely someone he knows but that doesn't mean that he would not save her. If he could.

"JAMES!" Zhyphera screams, her dark hair flying all over her face, "HELP ME!"

Before he can do anything, James suddenly feels a pair of hands on his back and for a moment he is flying through the air. As he hits a stone wall with a sickening thud, the wind knocked out of him, he can finally see his attacker. At first, James thinks it's a Walpurgis Knight, but now he can see his error.

His attacker is in a right state of things. Its skin has blistered and popped, the flesh torn away at some places. There is a gaping hole in its jaw, so deep that its teeth could be seen. Its eyes are glazed, drooping in their sockets but its intent is clear. From beneath its ragged black cloak, it pulls out its wand, aiming right at him.

No, this is no Knight. This is a Death Eater.

A derelict husk of one, but a Death Eater nonetheless.

With Zhyphera still in his mind, James has no time to think.

But before the Death Eater can do anything, James pulls out his wand and screams, "_Reducto!_"

The effect is almost immediate and devastating. The curse rips through the Death Eater's, tearing and slashing at its poor body. James recoils as black, sticky blood bursts from the Death Eater and splatters onto him. It attempts to cry out, but soon its mouth begins to rip apart too. By the time the curse has run its course, there are only ribbons of ragged flesh left in a sticky pool of blood.

Sickly proud of his work, James hurries over to Zhyphera. But it's too late. She is either dead or dying (James hopes the former) and now the Creatures are dragging her into the Forbidden Forest. Her nearly severed head trailing along as her dirtied blood makes an even bloodier trail.

James is close to tears. Zhyphera is dead and by the time the Creatures are done with her, there'll be nothing left to bury her with.

James is sickened with the reality. Zhyphera was more than a talented witch and yet, she stood no chance against the Creatures of the Undead. What chance does Lyra have? Or Jerome? Or Louis? Or Graeme? Follisius? Albus? Josephine? The list is endless with the names of people he could lose today.

James flattens himself against a wall as a Hufflepuff boy runs past him, three goblins upon his back as they stab and curse him. A witch falls to the ground dead as a Knight sends a Killing Curse straight through her heart.

James Sirius Potter can't stand it anymore. He can't-

He stops. His whole body freezing. He can hear the muffled moans of a dying being to the right of his ear. He pulls out his wand, realising it can be anyone; friend or foe.

But in his heart, he knows it's someone he loves. He just knows.

He edges closer to a little courtyard where he and his friends had spent countless lunches laughing and messing about. Now, it is piled high with the dead, painted and tainted with their innocent blood.

The moonlight shimmers upon the courtyard, casting an eerie glow upon the whole thing.

James' heart almost stops beating when he sees who it is. His breath is caught in his throat and for a moment, he is unable to breathe. His legs go numb and he falls to the ground. Immediately, yet groggily, pulls himself back up.

"No," James groans, "Please, no."


	2. The Beginning

_Two Years Earlier_

Chapter 1

-The Beginning-

The sun flitted through the dark grey clouds, shining glittering light on the world below. The air was cold and thick with post-rain blues, but it didn't negate the shimmering pools of water or the warm breeze running its fingers through every subject and person.

King's Cross Station was bustling to the seams with the hundreds of Muggles who used the station every day. They sped this way and that, some almost tripping and falling flat on their faces in their haste to catch their respective trains. Completely oblivious they were to the world that lay beyond the wall separating platforms nine and ten.

The fog was stifling at the busy Platform 9¾, threatening to engulf everyone in its arms of invisibility and murkiness if not dealt with.

Scowling, he pulled out his wand and muttered a spell he had learnt during the summer. It was meant to be used for defrosting windows or clearing small areas of vision. But it seemed that other wizards and witches had the same idea and soon, the fog cleared.

Now that the fog was gone, what James Potter saw through his flickering hazel eyes sorely disappointed him. Every year it was the same; the same giggling gaggles of girls, the same brooding mixes of young wizards, the same screeches and yelps from the variety of cats, owls and toads. Not to mention the same, but different bunch of worried parents of First-Years scuttling about, adjusting scarves, planting kisses and repeating phrases like, 'have you packed everything?' and 'try not to get into any trouble'.

Those times were long gone for James. And for Albus and Lily. Now all that was left for him was 'give me about a month's head start before I start receiving letters from the school.'

Perhaps it was just him, or maybe secretly everyone felt the same, but James could not help but feel nostalgic. He was sixteen years old now, nearly seventeen in about five months. Watching these doe eyed First Years took him back to his own.

He had not been as puny or as timid, but he had had the same fears. The same hopes, ambitions and visions. Had they remained with him? Did he still care for them? James honestly didn't know.

It was hard to tell since so much had changed. Not just physically but psychologically too. Things that were once so important, so vital now seemed childish and trivial.

"James!"

Subsequently, after hearing his name being called, James felt a heavy weight launch onto his back, its arms strapping themselves around his neck and its legs finding their place around his hips.

Laughing, and noting the change in weight, James shook of his attacker and gave him a good hard slap against the arm.

Jerome Gamp stood tall and steady before James, a wicked grin plastered over his handsome olive face. His dark hair fell into his sea-green eyes as he attempted to shake it off his forehead. Still giggling, Jerome tugged at the woollen scarf at his neck and pinched James' cheek.

"How are you, mate?" James asked.

"Good, good. You?" Jerome returned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat.

"Alright," smirked James, raising a brow, "You needn't have asked if you had actually returned my owls."

"They're tight in Russia," explained Jerome, cold mist blowing out of his mouth, "Sort of weird actually. They were intercepting every owl that comes in, making sure it's all safe. Can't tell you what they were protecting us from,"

"Nothing serious I should think," said James.

"Probably not," agreed Jerome. He paused for a moment before smiling again, wrapping his coat tighter around himself.

James looked over his shoulder, eyeing his family. They were all chatting away, catching with each other though most had seen the other not a week ago.

James certainly wanted to catch up with his friend, but not in the presence of his family. Being in such a situation would only cause the moment to become awkward and uncomfortable. The almost six years of friendship had earned itself a 'no privacy' badge and the last thing James needed was his mother or father peeking over his shoulder.

James caught his father's eye, who thankfully in turn nodded and with this consent, James disappeared with his friend into the re-emerging mist.

And it did not take them long to find the rest of their gang; of all the social groups in Hogwarts, theirs seemed to be the most amalgamated of the Houses.

Fred, Louis, Graeme, Harper and Follisius stood impartial to the ground, resting their backs against a brick wall. Most were clad in their Muggle clothing, save for Harper, who was adorning his blue and bronze school robes with pride.

"Alright boys?" James asked his friends, smirking at their cool exterior.

A mixture of 'yeah', 'good' and 'you?' was the return.

"Sixth year, eh?" said Fred Weasley, peeping out from behind Graeme Wood. He was grinning from ear to ear, his caramel skin twisting to his emotion.

"Still can't bloody believe it," laughed Harper Macmillan, rubbing his grey eyes.

The boys muttered words of agreement, for they all felt the same.

James looked to the side and realised he had a pair of eyes staring right at him.

Follisius gawked at James with a curious expression, his Scamander and Lovegood lineage evident in his curling blonde hair and bold blue eyes. Of all his friends, he and Follisius shared the oldest of bonds. But it did not mean that Follisius' quirks were still a bit of mystery to James.

"What?" asked James, laughing a little.

"Hey..." began Follisius dreamily, ignoring James' question. He looked deep in thought, as if fishing in that sea of a mind of his for the piece of information that was nagging at him.

Suddenly, his face lit up as if a light had gone off in his head.

"I heard you got Quidditch Captain?" he beamed.

James blushed a little. "Yeah,"

"Like father, like son,"

"We'll see if that's true, _after_ Gryffindor's first match shall we?" suggested Louis Weasley, giving his cousin a small wink.

The boys stood silently for a moment, watching the crowds of students slowly pile into the Express. They still had plenty of time and so, they felt no need to rush.

By all technicalities, both he and Jerome were supposed to be on prefect duty. Ushering students into the train, checking up on the First-Years and other menial tasks. But they were too lazy to do anything at the present and besides, the Ravenclaw prefects seemed to have gotten the task pretty down pat.

James watched as Jerome's face suddenly turned sour. The boy scrunching his nose and rolling his eyes, in a dramatic and drawn out fashion.

"Eugh," was all he managed to say.

Curious, James followed his friend's gaze and let out a small giggle as he found the source of Jerome's discomfort.

About four metres, in a mass of black cloaks and silver on green scarves, stood a boy and girl.

He was about a foot taller than her, imposing and intimadting with his white blonde hair and wiry build. She stood indifferently beside him, raven hair fluttering int the wind with her arm around his waist, occasionally smiling at the boy's whispers and small kisses.

James knew the girl, and unfortunately, the boy as well. In all honesty, he'd know her anywhere. He had known since her First-Year and his Second, but it was not this difference of years that had them so well acquainted; she was Jerome's sister.

"Come on Jerome," laughed Harper, noticing the situation, "It's kinda cute,"

"No. No it's not," grumbled Jerome, tugging at his own Slytherin scarf, "Baby chicks are cute, button noses are cute, Lillian Pucey's arse is cute."

He pointed to the young couple. "_That?_ That is just unnatural,"

The boys shook their heads at Jerome, secretly laughing at his own hypocrisy. Jerome was well known for his womanizing antics at Hogwarts, and the fact that he was judging his sister for doing something that was relatively harmless on the PDA scale when he himself was at the extreme end of the spectrum, was something to laugh at.

"Look, my little sister has a Macnair running his hands all over her," explained Jerome, desperately trying to justify himself. He looked to James and pointed a long finger at him. "Don't tell me you wouldn't feel the same if someone was doing that to Lily?"

"Yeah I suppose," shrugged James, chuckling a little.

With Jerome's temper settling down, the group tore their eyes away from the situation and began to converse on things a little more worldly than the love lives of others. But James, much to his own surprise, was still staring.

Lyra was truly strange in that way. Whilst Adolphus seemed to be giving off all the affection he could, however sleazy it may be, she seemed indifferent and stoic. Only occasionally did she let out a smile or a giggle.

She was far more suited to Adolphus' brother Cenred, what with his cold and intimidating stance.

James supposed it was one of the things that made her attractive; her cool and cold exterior. As though nothing ever affected her and as if she had it all together.

Adolphus broke off and greeted a few friends, leaving Lyra in the company of a girl James knew to be Zhyphera Zabini. She chatted to the other girl briefly, before falling silent. He watched as Lyra began to scan her situation as she did, she locked eyes with James.

Instantly, his face lit up as did hers. She did not make to move towards him, merely offering him a warm smile and wave. James returned the action, feeling a little warm himself.

And immediately, he felt bad for it. He was, after all, seeing someone else.

Beckoned by her friends, Lyra began to move towards the Express. And as she did, James turned back to his own band of brothers. They were laughing and jostling, pinching and slapping each other as they bundled onto the Express.

And James could not help but smile. These were his boys. Young men he had grown to care for almost as his own brothers. He didn't know what he would do without them.

* * *

Lyra twisted her fingers in her lap, marvelling at how bony they were. The joints stuck out and the skin between them was tight and taut. She really needed to eat more or she'd slowly begin to look like her mother.

She looked up from her fingers and sighed happily.

Travelling to Hogwarts was certainly the highlight of her year, for it was the means of escape. Home every other year was just tolerable, but the family trip to Russia made things outright unbearable. She loved her mother and father dearly, but it was clear that they did not love each other. And their fruitless attempts to show otherwise were very much hit and miss.

But still, the change of scenery and temperature did do some good; her family had been too frozen to say a word to each other for the entirety of the trip.

She felt a hand snake up around her shoulders and in response she looked up.

Adolphus' pale face looked down on her, a cunning smile plastered from ear to ear. His skin looked even more colourless against his corn-silk hair and deep brown eyes and for a moment, Lyra wondered if he ever went out into the sunlight at all.

He pouted his lower lip and tucked a section of her hair behind her ear.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "You're very quiet,"

"I'm fine," smiled Lyra, resting her head against his shoulder.

It was a strange feeling really, to know that Adolphus was her boyfriend. Even saying it in her head sounded alien to her.

Adolphus was doubtless her first relationship and she secretly hoped he would be her only. She had had many infatuations throughout her life, none of which she ever voiced publically. Adolphus had been the forbearer of her affections and for years, that affection had only grown.

But, and though she was a little uncomfortable to admit it, her feelings had not always been so directed and straight. One other boy had caught her eye and she found that she was not able to fight her growing fondness for this particular young lad.

Lyra shifted in her seat and examined her friends with a mix of amusement and quiet sadness. It was quite a weird sensation, realising how much they had grown. All fifteen years old and yet, it was still quite hard to comprehend.

Taller, wider, thinner; their individual growth was something to marvel.

She watched as her cousin Rowan Nott tapped his foot involuntarily as he had always done and then yank a loose copper curl from Dorea Wilke's head, as he had always done. Dorea's traditional response was to pout and slap back, but this time, she opted for a kick in the shin.

Scorpius Malfoy was currently lying on the floor of the compartment, with Atilla Dolohov's arm wrapped tightly around his neck as they engaged in the most primal of human activities; wrestling. For what, Lyra was not sure of. Scorpius had always been a weedy child and though he was only fifteen, Atilla's impressive build alone should have deterred the young Malfoy from attempting any sort of physical confrontation.

Herod Goyle, of course, was encouraging the wrestling match. His short curly hair shook a little in their roots as he jumped in seat in excitement, occasionally clutching a rather peeved Zhyphera Zabini each time the match took an interesting turn.

And then there was Brutus. Dear, sweet Brutus Yaxley. Sitting in the corner by himself watching and smiling at his group of friends, he was perhaps the one person in the world Lyra adored the most. Though his blonde hair and blasé air suggested otherwise, the quite Ravenclaw was the furthest thing from the Pureblood stereotype.

If he wasn't such a brother to her, such a familial piece of joy to her, Lyra was sure he would have been her first choice for a life partner.

Lyra felt Adolphus shifting behind her and immediately, she was broken from her thoughts.

"Still can't believe they chose you over me, Nott," said Adolphus, his voice thick with a smug undercurrent, "It's a wonder they picked you at all,"

Lyra rolled her eyes. If there was one aspect of Adolphus she hated, it was his superior attitude. Though she could appreciate arrogance and superiority to those who were below them, she could not understand Adolphus' his need to lord about to his own class.

Especially Rowan.

"Hmm," agreed Zhyphera, pushing Herod off of her arm, "Even old Scorpius here seemed to have had a shot at prefect. Don't think any of us would have ever expected you,"

Rowan's eyes flashed and his expression soured. "Well, they picked me alright?"

"Clearly the old bird's getting a little too old. Can't make the right decisions anymore," smirked Adolphus.

Herod and Zhyphera erupted into giggles, laughing even harder as Rowan got up from his seat and barged out of the compartment.

She shot Adolphus a poisonous look.

"What?" laughed Adolphus, spreading his arms to the sides.

"Can't you at least pretend to be nice?" asked Brutus, leaning forward in his seat.

"No. Been doing that for the past four years," shrugged Adolphus, "I say a change will do all of us some good,"

"Here, here," agreed Herod, clapping his thick hands.

"There's no need for that Goyle," frowned Dorea.

"Well there's no need for _you_, Wilkes," said Herod harshly, "You don't see me complaining,"

Dorea was taken aback, her lips trembling. Dorea had always been prone to tears; even the slightest insult sent her into a crying fit.

"Goyle, why don't you just stick to grunts and howls?" asked Brutus politely, cocking his head to the side, "I think that suits you best-"

"Why don't I stick to thrusting my fist down your throa-"

"That's quite enough Herod," said Adolphus sternly, although his little giggle afterwards suggested he felt otherwise.

Thoroughly disgusted with him, Lyra pushed herself out of Adolphus' grip and onto her feet.

"He is my cousin you know," remarked Lyra, fixing her robes. Scorpius mumbled something rather unintelligible and for his lack of support, she slapped Scorpius across the back of the head.

"And yours too," she told him.

"Point being?" asked Adolphus, one eyebrow raised and his face annoyingly smug.

"Point being that if you wish to keep me, you'll treat my family with respect."

Adolphus scoffed, pulling Zhyphera closer to him. "Who says I even want you?"

Lyra couldn't believe Adolphus' audacity. Zhyphera made no move to leave Adolphus, simply resting against him as Lyra had done not seconds ago.

Feeling ostracised, Lyra slammed open the compartment doors and headed after Rowan. It did not take her long to find him; his elevated voice was a beacon enough.

He was about a metre away, shrieking and cursing at a cowering First Year.

"Rowan!" Lyra called. Rowan looked up briefly and then back to the First Year. He seemed to issue a warning of sorts before the poor child ran to the nearest compartment.

"Ro-Rowan," said Lyra, as she caught up.

"What?" grumbled Rowan, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"He didn't mean it,"

Rowan scowled. "Yes he did,"

"Alright he did, but that's not the point," said Lyra. She placed a hand on his arm and offered him the kindest smile she could muster. "You're a good choice, Rowan. Better than all of those thick heads back there. Really-"

Rowan cut his cousin off and brushed off her arm. "No, don't...don't say things like that Lyra,"

Lyra crossed her arms. "Why not?"

"Because we're, like, family," explained Rowan, "It's like a mother saying her kid's the most beautiful thing in the world. To her maybe, but to the rest of the world he just looks like scaly Skrewt arse. Families are biased, so your compliments mean nothing,"

Lyra shook her head in amusement. Rowan was hard to convince even when the odds were in his favour. She had no intention wasting the rest of her trip trying to cheer him up if he did not want to hear it.

Lyra pushed past him and began to walk down the carriages.

"Where are you going?" asked Rowan.

"Prefect duty," replied Lyra, turning her head back slightly. Though he remained stationary for a moment, Lyra could hear Rowan's footsteps nearing her.

She smiled to herself.

"How was Russia by the way?" he asked from behind.

"Cold. Did nothing to brighten the familial mood, might I add," said Lyra. She had no intention of speaking about her family, especially since they were nearing Hogwarts.

Feeling a little airheaded, Lyra decided to turn the conversation onto him. "Let's turn the conversation the other way; how are you and Dorea going?"

Rowan stopped suddenly, his face flustered. "Dorea? There is no me and Dorea,"

Lyra raised her brow.

"There isn't,"

"Atilla says he saw you two snogging last year,"

"Atilla thinks Muggle women are attractive; you really gonna rely on his judgement?" scoffed Rowan.

"Ah, but this isn't about judgement is it now?" laughed Lyra in a sing-song voice, "It's about factual events and the credibility of the observer,"

"Well in that case, the argument is completely invalid," snapped Rowan, "There is no factual account because it never happened and the credibility of the observer should be under intense scrutiny."

Lyra laughed heartily; clearly, Rowan's flustered replies were not helping him.

"We didn't snog, alright?" said Rowan, "And Atilla didn't see us snog, either. It's about bloody time you realised the guy is just a dickhead hell bent on making lives miserable,"

Rowan felt he had defended himself admirably enough, but he could feel the heat rising in his ears and soon, they'd turn red too.

Already, he could see Lyra's face lighting up, clearing amused at his genetic tendencies.

"Shut up," growled Rowan, before Lyra could say anything.

"I'm sorry!" giggled Lyra, her green eyes flashing with delight.

"It's not funny,"

"But your ears...!"

Rowan was about to retort, something witty and well thought out, when a tall shadow caused the two to stop their conversation.

James Potter was not someone Rowan generally liked, but in all honesty, Rowan couldn't care less. Tall, athletic, handsome; everything Rowan secretly wanted for himself. But he didn't feel any jealously or desirousness for James' achievements. Just a quiet respect.

From all his encounters with the older boy, Potter had been relatively civil and times, kind of cool. But the house rivalry between the two houses, coupled with the pressures from his fellow housemates, Rowan felt the only safe thing to do was to steer clear of James.

"Alright?" greeted Rowan, nodding his head. And though Adolphus would probably have slapped him for it, Rowan held out his hand.

"Yeah, you?" returned James, taking Rowan's hand.

"Yeah,"

An internal smile spread across Rowan's face as he watched James' gaze shift onto Lyra.

There had always been something going on between the two, ever since their first meeting less than five years ago. Something Rowan couldn't really put his finger on. He could tell the two had something going on for each other, something bordering between mutual affection and that little bit more.

But of course, Jerome was not one to allow such activities between his sister and best friend and despite the free-spirited nature of the two, James and Lyra had heeded Jerome's silent request.

"Hey Lyra," greeted James, giving the girl a quick hug.

"How are you James?" smiled Lyra as she started to pulled away.

"Good," said James. Rowan's grin spread even wider as he noticed James' hand lingering on Lyra's arm.

_You've got competition Macnair. _

An awkard passed between the three, before Lyra finally made to move.

"I'll keep on going then," Lyra muttered, pointing over her shoulder.

"Yeah, sure," said James.

"I'll catch up," said Rowan. Lyra looked to her cousin quizzically, before trusting his judgement as she left the two boys.

Rowan and James stood silently for a moment before James spoke up.

"Yeah, Jerome told me you got prefect," said James. He smiled. "Better you than Macnair. We all thought he'd get it,"

"So everyone says," mumbled Rowan, looking to his feet.

"You haven't seen Morpheus, have you?" asked James, scratching his head, "Jerome kind of lost him and now he's got all of us on a manhunt,"

Morpheus Gamp was the youngest of the Gamp children and despite the physical similarity, Morpheus was very much unlike his older siblings. Whilst Jerome had made a name for himself as the Slytherin Traitor, Lyra had turned into the Slytherin Queen of sorts.

It would be a challenge for Morpheus, for thoughts about him had already been formulated about him through the actions of Jerome and Lyra. Whether he would take his sister's path, or that of his brother.

"No," said Rowan, shaking his head, "If I see him, I'll let you know,"

"Thanks mate,"

The 'mate' bit threw Rowan off a little, for he did not remember a moment when he had refered to James as friend. But, he was willing to let it pass considering he had bigger things on his mind to discuss.

"She's seeing someone you know," said Rowan quietly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know," said James, a little defensively.

"And so are you," continued Rowan.

James crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the younger boy. "So what are insinuating?"

"I'm insinuating that I know what happened last year at the Yuletide Dinner."

Though Rowan wasn't entreily sure what had happened, he knew he had hit the mark. James' face had fallen, his cheeks slowly filling with colour.

But quickly and very discretly, he recomposed himself.

"I don't know what you're-"

"It's alright Potter," interrupted Rowan, "I'd rather you than him. But, whether I like it or not...she's happy with Adolphus. And from what I've heard, so are you with Corner,"

"I am," said James indignantly.

"Then stop looking at her like that," laughed Rowan bitterly, "It's not good for either of you,"

James did not retaliate to Rowan's plea, merely eyeing the boy with suspicion. He licked his lips as he looked to feet. When he looked back up, an appreciative look had taken over his face.

"When did you become such a sage?" asked James.

Rowan let out a genuine, yet half-hearted laugh. In all honesty, he was no sage. He knew nothing of life and the dangers it presented, and so to suggest he was a sage of sorts, some knowledgeable was a laughing matter.

The boys suddenly lurched forward as the Express came to an unexpected stop. The carriages swayed a little, the lights above them flickering in their cases. Rowan and James looked around, as other curious students peeped out from their compartments.

There was a suddenly BANG on the side of the carriage, followed by the sound of gravel under feet.

"What was that?" Rowan whispered.

"I don't know," James whispered back.

Lyra came bounding back to the boys, her hair flying behind her.

"I heard the noise," she said, "Why have we stopped?"

"Dunno," muttered James, "Best we be on alert,"

The other two silently agreed, as the three pulled out their wands from their robes. They flicked round as the carriage door began to rattle, the sound of overlapping voices coming through the door.

The three children looked to each other, as other students began to mille around them.

The door rattled even harder, the knob twisting and turning. With one last flicker, the lights extinguished and following the imminent darkness, came the shrieks of frightened and confused students.

"_Lumos,_" James muttered, as the others followed suit.

He looked out the window, but that was a fruitless attempt. It was pitch black outside and the only thing they could see was their own reflections.

The door rattled and once again, the voices returned.

James gripped his wand tighter, his hand shaking. His heart began to race, his breath quickening as the knob snapped open.

* * *

**AN: I AM SO SORRY I TOOK SO BLOODY LONG TO UPDATE! I MEAN, ITS BEEN A MONTH, EVEN MORE HASN'T IT? It's just, like I've said before, I know where this story will end and getting there is the problem. I had a case of SEVERE writer's block with this story and ideas for my other stories were circulating in my head.**

**I'm afraid chapters, from this point, will be a little boring...for it's simply introducing these characters and events to you. Hopefully, you'll stick with me! And in terms of this particular chapter, I'm sorry it was not up to the standard of the prologue. You see, this is merely the beginning and until the story progresses, any action will come later.**

**But hopefully, by then, I will have improved.**

**Thanks so much to those who reviewed! And those who alerted!**

**AND ONCE AGAIN, I AM SORRY FOR BOTH THE WAIT AND THE PURE HORRIDNESS OF THIS CHAPTER!**


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